


It'll Be Okay

by Notsohappycamper



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsohappycamper/pseuds/Notsohappycamper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima doesn't really know when it happened, but it did, and man, did it hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Tsukki!”

Tsukishima glances back to his right, to where Yamaguchi is standing no more than 5 feet away from him, and narrows his eyes.

Practice went a little long today, but at least not the ridiculous until-dark sessions that sometimes happen to take place. The sun is just barely beginning to set, and most of the team has already slumped off, or bounded off, in Hinata’s case, to get pork buns, the age old after-practice tradition.

Tsukishima declined the offer to join, but only because he wasn’t particularly hungry at the moment. It just so happened that Yamaguchi was the last of the team to leave the gym, and Tsukki just knows by the way his eyes light up that he thinks the blond stalled to wait for him.

Maybe he had. Maybe he hadn’t. It’s nothing to get so excited over.

“Stop yelling when I’m standing right by you, Yamaguchi,” he mutters, turning away and beginning to walk, expecting the other to follow.

With a laugh and a “sorry”, Yamaguchi easily matches his pace, dropping in to fill the spot beside him, as he always has.

They slip into a comfortable silence, shoes padding on the cement and music lightly filtering through the headphones around Tsukishima’s neck. Yamaguchi is walking close enough so that he can hear it too, shoulder bumping against the blond’s on every other step. He’s humming softly under his breath along to the beat, and Tsukki is this close to telling him to quit it. Yamaguchi beats him to the punch.

“Hey, Tsukki,” he starts. His voice sounds soft to Tsukki’s ears, though it may just be because of the music. His head is tilted back slightly, dark eyes glued to the cream-colored sky. That stubborn flip of hair on the top of his head waves slightly with each step. “Do you want to get something to eat before we go home?”

Tsukishima looks away from him suddenly, because he realizes that he’s been staring since Yamaguchi said his nickname. The setting sun just caught his face in such a way that it seemed like his skin was made of dancing light. It was distracting, that’s all.

“I’m not that hungry,” Tsukki tells him, blunt and easy. Simple.

“Hm. Well, come with me anyway?” Yamaguchi asks with a smile, the living, breathing opposite of simple. It bothers Tsukishima so much he can’t stand it.

He ends up looking away and nodding his head ‘yes’ regardless.

It’s not that he’s angry with his friend or anything; why would he be? Yamaguchi could never really make him angry. He’s far too better at staying on Tsukishima’s good side. He knows Tsukki like he’s a subject in school to be studied for, to be tested on and practiced. He’s got it all down, better than anyone else in Tsukishima’s life ever could, maybe even his own brother, and Tsukki doesn’t mind that at all. He supposes that he knows Yamaguchi better than anyone else, too, when it all comes down to it. There’s no harm there. No foul. They’ve been together for years.

But it’s moments like these, when Yamaguchi is just so... When he ends up convincing Tsukki to do something he wouldn’t go out of his way for otherwise, convinces him without even trying, no less. It’s the recent moments like these that stick with Tsukki, that cement themselves to the sides of his brain and refuse to be pried off. When Yamaguchi can just laugh into the air around them, can tilt his head and smile, and Tsukki is suddenly following him down streets he never would gone out of his way for. This just started happening, somewhere along the line. 

Tsukki has no idea when, or how. It’s not manipulation, he knows that. There is rarely any pleading needed in most cases. It’s really just the other boy being himself, and Tsukishima folding under him like a thin slip of paper.

When did this start happening?

“Tsukki?”

The familiar voice leaks into his head, grabs his thoughts, and pushes them inside out. Yamaguchi is standing in front of him, peering up into his face with a full mouth. There’s a strawberry crepe with a bite taken out of it in his left hand.

Tsukishima had waited for him outside the shop and must have drifted off so deeply into thought that he didn’t notice Yamaguchi was even done buying something. Yet another annoying side effect caused by him, Tsukki notes. Thoughts of him sometimes make it hard to concentrate on anything, recently.

When the taller boy doesn’t respond, Yamaguchi just smiles and holds his crepe up close to Tsukki’s mouth, eyebrows raising in an unspoken request.

He tries not to look into his eyes when he bends over just enough to take a bite. Yamaguchi is so close, is so seeking and captivating, that when he licks the crumbs off his own lips, he can see it reflected in Yamaguchi’s dark eyes.

The taste of strawberries and whipped cream stays on his tongue even after they hit their fork in the road and part ways to walk alone. Tsukishima can still taste the sweetness of it before he goes to bed that night.

Yamaguchi had nodded when he took a bite and said he knew he’d like the strawberry one the most.

*

He finds himself so distracted now. Particularly in the mornings.

It’s getting cooler out; the days are getting shorter, and he can see both of their breath in the air when they meet up to walk to the gym together as the sun pales in the sky.

Volleyball really is helping Yamaguchi. He’s starting to realize just how strong he is, how powerful. Tsukki can see the passion every time they meet eyes. They’re the eyes of a boy who is truly happy with life, who is motivated to move forward, and who is dying to make something of himself.

They’re the eyes Yamaguchi had towards him when Tsukki saved him all those years ago, like Tsukki was his answer to everything. Now, those eyes are not directed towards anyone, though. If anything, they are directed towards life itself.

Tsukki doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s refreshing to see Yamaguchi depend on something other than him for once. It’s cool of him, like when Yamaguchi stood up and called him pathetic, right to his face. It was so damn cool of him.

Yamaguchi is wearing a thin scarf around his neck now, over a light blue jacket suited for the cool morning air. 

Tsukki wants to pull so badly on one end of that girly scarf when Yamaguchi walks up to him, waving, and so he does. He snags the end and gives it a tug before letting go and doesn’t know why, but he does, and the other just yawns lightly and re-adjusts the cloth, thought Tsukki barely moved it in the first place.

He thinks about why he did that stupid thing all the way to practice. For some inane reason, surely. The thought haunts him all day long. Why Yamaguchi in that damn light gray scarf made him just have to reach out and touch it.

After that day, many morning encounters turn into this, with Tsukki feeling bold and impulsive, and Yamaguchi too tired and distracted to care. One morning, he grabs the end of that scarf and loops it back around Yamaguchi’s neck so that he can slide it off, double-fold it, and then wrap it back around him. Yamaguchi blinks and even tilts his head up to give him a better angle, mutter a weary “Tsukki...” before the blond turns away completely and starts walking.

Tsukki doesn’t give him any other acknowledgment after that and turns the music blaring through his headphones up until he can’t even hear Yamaguchi’s footsteps beside him anymore.

He doesn’t know why the mornings become his time for fiddling with his friend’s clothing. Maybe because there’s no one around to see him act out on these stupid urges. Maybe because he really does want Yamaguchi’s neck to be warmer with the help of a double-folded scarf. 

Or maybe because mornings are when Yamaguchi’s eyes are the softest, his face fresh, his gaze sleepy, and Tsukki just can’t help but reach out and interact with him in some -in any- way.

He wants it to be simple, with no underlying meaning, but there is something else there. He knows there is. He’s not stupid. There is something there just as equally annoying as him bending so easily to the other’s will like he’s been doing recently. Something he hates because it keeps him up at night and makes him want to switch high schools just to get away from it. It’s complicated and intricate and infuriating, like Yamaguchi himself.

One morning, when he reaches out to tug that scarf tighter around his neck, Yamaguchi reaches out too and pulls the zipper of his black jacket up a bit higher in response. He presses when he does it, so Tsukishima can feel his thumb and index finger slide against his chest through the material of the jacket.

He is so surprised at that, foolishly, like he has any right to be. He, who’s been brushing his fingers against the other’s neck and messing unceremoniously with his clothing, feels shocked when Yamaguchi reaches out and does it in return. 

He blinks and stares, wide-eyed, into that freckled face.

“It’s getting colder out, huh?” Yamaguchi asks softly, and then promptly turns to walk towards the gym.

Tsukki watches him take four steps before he forces his body to follow behind, completely unraveled, wanting to turn around, sprint home, and never meet up for morning practices ever again.

*

“Tsukki, it’s lunch time!”

“I know that, Yamaguchi.”

Though is it usually Tsukki who seeks out the other during lunch break, today Yamaguchi rushes to him like a hyper child. He’s just full of surprises recently, it seems to Tsukishima.

Does Yamaguchi even know what he’s doing, he wonders. Does Yamaguchi realize exactly how much it irritates him when he does things like this? When he practically bounces into the classroom and swoops up Tsukki’s bento from his desk, carrying it over his head as he makes his way to the back of the room. It just makes Tsukki feel so... hopeful.

He turns in his seat to watch him, and, when Yamaguchi gets a certain distance away, feels a pull and stands to follow.

He less eats his lunch than he watches the other eat his. 

It’s gotten worse. Terribly so. It’s gotten to the point where he can’t even pretend to not notice anymore. It’s grown over time, from a sprout of pondering, and blossomed into a full garden of self-awareness.

He can look at Yamaguchi and just know. But maybe that’s exactly why he doesn’t want to stop looking at him. Why he can’t stop looking at him all lunch break long. He wants to know. In a way, it feels good to know.

Yamaguchi tilts his head, blinks, reaches down for a piece of broccoli with chopsticks, and glances at the clock and some people around them, all before he takes one look in Tsukki’s direction ever since they sat down. Tsukishima sits and watches it all.

“Hey, Tsukki...” he starts finally. It’s tentative and annoying welcoming, like a toasty fireplace in a frigid room. It’s soft and nice.

“You can just say what you want to, you know,” Tsukki teases him, looking away.

The other lets out a small sigh and fidgets a little. A hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck. “Okay, yeah, sorry. Anyway, I was just wondering. What do you think you’ll be doing after college?”

Tsukishima glances back to him, still oddly bothered and annoyed. It seems as much as Yamaguchi plants flowers on the field of his mind, he stirs molten lava into his veins all the same. “How am I suppose to know? Getting a job, preferably. You know, what most people go to college for in the first place?”

Yamaguchi looks down at his half-empty bento, silent and dejected, and Tsukki wants to tear his own organs out.

He shoves his foot horribly deep inside his own mouth instead. “If you don’t have a basic idea in mind, what’s the point of going to college anyway? Don’t even waste your time.” He stuffs a ball of rice into his mouth so he doesn’t have to hear his own voice anymore.

Yamaguchi is still looking down, with a small frown on his face. “But... If I don’t end up going to college with you, do you think we’ll still be friends after college, or whatever we each decide to do after high school? Like, we’ll still be friends, right?”

Tsukki pretends to chew on that ball of rice for a long, long time. 

Then Yamaguchi’s soft brown eyes meet his, pulling and questioning and pleading all at once, and he opens his mouth to spout out more bullshit, but he doesn’t know what else he can do. “I don’t know... Why are you asking this all of a sudden? I can’t know for sure what will happen, obviously. It’s in the future.”

Yamaguchi bites his lip and says nothing else. Tsukishima just really either wants lunch to be over soon so he can escape, or for lunch to go on forever, so he can think of something even remotely decent to say.

‘Of course we can stay together, you idiot!’ he wants to scream to the other. ‘Has anything kept us back from going to the same middle school? To the same high school? Stay in contact with me, and I’ll stay in contact with you!’

Why would Yamaguchi even consider it any other way?

“I just want to keep hanging out with you, Tsukki... After high school.. When we’re adults.”

His whispered voice captures Tsukishima’s attention completely.

“I want to keep being friends and eating lunch with you and walking home with you. And I was just thinking about it the other day, about how things will change so much when we graduate. And I know we are just 1st years, so we have a long way to go, but it’s still stressful. I want to stay with you...”

Tsukki stares into his eyes and hopes with all of his soul that the other truly means what he’s saying. “Oh?” he blurts out, because he really doesn’t know what else to say. His face is warm, and his chest gets tight as Yamaguchi starts to nod enthusiastically.

“Yeah. And I want to stay with the other guys, too.”

He blinks. His gaze traces a path from Yamaguchi’s brown eyes to the collar of his white uniform shirt. He leans back in his chair, stretching his long legs out, and wonders why the pain slowly washing over him even had to begin plaguing him in the first place.

“I just want to keep hanging out with all you guys and playing volleyball forever. I’m scared of the future... I don’t even know what I want to do for a living. What I’ll study for in college.”

Tsukishima stays silent.

“I have years to figure it out, I know. But still- ...Tsukki?”

Yamaguchi watches him with eyes like marbles of glass. They reflect him, his blond hair, the glasses on his face. They reflect the entire world, the past, present, and future. Tsukki reaches out and steals up a piece of broccoli from his lunch to make those eyes glance down and look anywhere else but at him.

“You’re worrying too much, Yamaguchi. Don’t think so hard about the future. You’ll ruin the surprise of it.”

The freckled boy smiles so lightly, he swears he could have just imagined it, and, after a while, reaches out to steal a piece of his food as well, giggling mischievously as he does so.

Tsukishima doesn’t mind. He doesn’t eat anymore of his lunch anyway.

*

It’s gotten even colder out now, the sky fading to a gray glow of clouds shielding the warmth of the sun. It’s like the snow flakes are just lingering in them, waiting impatiently to fall and cover the ground in cold white.

Yamaguchi is bundled up for exactly such a snowfall when Tsukki meets him at the door and lets him inside.

It’s a Sunday, and Yamaguchi said he wanted to come over to study together, but Tsukki doubts they’ll even be studying at all. There’s a higher chance that Yamaguchi just wanted to hang out, to see him, walk home with him, like he said he will miss so much after high school. 

If he will truly miss hanging out with all the guys, like he insisted, why doesn’t he go to someone else’s house then? Why does he always come to just Tsukki’s? Why does he untie his scarf and take off his jacket, pull at the long sleeves of his light yellow sweater and smile up into Tsukki’s face, like he’s been looking forward to this all week? Why does he think it’s okay to make Tsukki feel this way about him? How selfish can he be?

He ends up leading Tsukishima to his own room, as Tsukki silently broods along the way. He slides around him, greets his mother who hugs him in return - like she always has - and steps into his own room before him. Plops down on his bed and pulls his blanket onto his lap like they live together and have been for years and years.

Instead of sitting down, Tsukki walks to his closed window and gazes out at the empty gray street. Hm, it still hasn’t started snowing just yet. 

“Did you bring anything to study?” he asks over his shoulder, though he already knows the answer.

Yamaguchi laughs before he speaks. A nervous reaction. “Not really.” He shifts and pulls the blanket around him tighter. “I actually don’t really need to study. I just figured we could hang out and stuff instead.”

When Tsukishima turns to look at him, he is smiling so brightly, like a burning star, and it pisses him off. It pisses him off so much. It makes him so uselessly emotional, the exact thing he hates the most about people, the exact thing he tries so hard not to be. 

He sits down on the bed and looks away, before he ends up saying something harsh to the boy that he’ll probably regret for a long, long time.

Yamaguchi easily leaps into the silence slowly starting to suffocate the room. “Let’s watch something on TV!” he suggests boldly, throwing the blanket into the blond’s lap before jumping off and grabbing the remote from his desk.

They both end up sharing the blanket - because Yamaguchi urged him to join him under it - with the remote between them.

He doesn’t really watch the nameless, generic anime Yamaguchi eventually settles on so much as he watches it go through the motions. There’s a girl with large breasts and pink hair and a clueless-looking male protagonist being led through a school by her, like she is the universal answer to all of his problems.

Funny. In actuality, is he the pink-haired guide and Yamaguchi the wandering, helpless protagonist, like he would think it to be, or is it the other way around? Has it just always been the other way around? Is Yamaguchi the answer to all of his problems, and not the reverse?

If so, is that even a bad thing..?

“Yama...” he starts soft and trails off to silence when he glances at his friend and sees that his eyes are closed.

Yamaguchi’s shoulders have slumped during the time he spent distracted; his head is cocked towards Tsukki’s shoulder and his hands are slackly folded on his stomach. They rise and fall slowly with each breath.

It kills him, Tsukki realizes as he watches his sleeping face now. The freckled boy’s lips are slightly parted in his sleep, warm, moist air puffing out of them at a steady rhythm, and it kills him. His head is so close to his shoulder that Tsukki wants to scoot over or jostle the other so that they just finally connect, because it’s killing him.

Yamaguchi is just slowly, steadily killing him.

It hurts so badly to think about them not talking or staying in contact after high school. It hurts to think about him reaching out to the other boys and leaving Tsukishima behind. It hurts to think about him settling down with some nameless, pink-haired girl with large breasts, who will be the answer to all of his problems. 

It hurts to think about the fact that, once, he slid up the zipper of his jacket and, in that moment, Tsukki felt those fingers slide up his chest as well.

He bought that stupid freakin’ crepe with the strawberries because he knew he’d like it the most.

He glowed like the sun when he thought Tsukki had waited for him after practice.

He wants to eat lunch and walk home and play volleyball forever and doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, and Tsukishima wants to take his hands and hold him and trace patterns on his freckles and kiss his lips until they both can’t breathe anymore.

Yamaguchi opens his eyes and groans.

“Oh crap... Sorry... How long was I asleep?”

Tsukki looks away as quickly as possible. How long had he been lost in thought? “Not long, really. And you weren’t missing anything important in this ‘show’, trust me,” he finishes dryly.

Yamaguchi rubs his eyes and snickers at the joke as Tsukki takes the remote and turns the TV off.

Their shared warmth under the blanket is sweltering on their clothed legs. Outside the thick glass of the window, fat snowflakes color the evening sky white.

The flakes catch Yamaguchi’s eyes immediately, and he huddles closer to Tsukki, pressing his face against his shoulder and groaning out. “Oh, it looks so cold out! I don’t wanna walk home.”

‘Stay the night then.’

The words are on the tip of his tongue. It wouldn’t be weird; they’ve spent the night at each other’s houses countless times in the past. But it would be weird now though, wouldn’t it? It would be different, to Tsukishima at least.

“It’ll be fine, stop whining. I’ll walk you home,” Tsukki says instead, indulgently gathering Yamaguchi in his arms to push them both up.

Though the shorter boy sleepily clings to him even after they’ve stood up, he knows it’s best to push him away, and tries not to feel guilty after he does so.

*

“Help me with my scarf, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, as he bends down to slip on his shoes.

He hates it, but Tsukki just can’t help but smile a bit - the smallest, faintest bit - and bend over as well to capture Yamaguchi’s neck in its warmth. He waits until the other stands up straight to adjust it, leaning in close even when he knows he shouldn’t. When he has no right to.

His fingers tuck underneath, wearing the guise of fixing it more securely, but they really only seek to brush against the curve of his neck, before shying away in shame.

Yamaguchi just smiles, freckles rising with his cheeks and eyes thinning in happiness. Tsukki turns away before that image has a chance to burn itself into his memory. “Hurry up, Yamaguchi.”

The music on the headphones around his neck is intentionally turned up much louder than normal, but Yamaguchi still huddles close, closer than ever, really, as they walk down the street. Tsukki doesn’t know why. He should be able to hear the music just fine.

Big flakes of snow are falling and catching in his dark hair, clinging to the sides and to that stubborn bit sticking straight up. They brush his eyelashes and glance off his cheeks as he walks.

He’s staring up at the sky again, but there’s no setting sun this time. There’s only a light gray night sky, covered entirely with snowy clouds, making the world appear much lighter than it really should, given that it’s nighttime. It’s like they’re somewhere in between night and day, like the snow has taken all concept of time and threw it to the wind, and Tadashi is just walking slowly and staring up at it all, and Kei can’t help but stare in return.

As soon as he stops walking, Yamaguchi stops too.

“Tsukki...?”

His eyes are wide, head perked up in interest, body angled forward. Scarf bunched around his neck.

Tsukki doesn’t know what to say to him anymore. Maybe he’ll just show him, instead.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi turns fully and approaches, still slow, still majestic, and horrible and complex and beautiful in every way. “What’s up?”

Tsukki reaches up to fix his glasses with his index finger even though they really don’t need fixing at all.

The other’s mouth twists into a small confused pout at the silence, but he steps close anyway. “Tsukkiii,” he whines under his breath. “What’s wrong? Are you cold or something?”

It’s when he reaches out to adjust the zipper on the front of his black jacket that Tsukishima reaches out as well and grabs his hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can mumble before he starts leaning in, barely even aware of what he’s doing anymore. The snow in Yamaguchi’s hair is just so nice looking, his scarf so fetching, and his little yellow sweater underneath so fitting for him. The freckles on his cheeks...

The hand in his grips tight. Tadashi’s brown eyes get bigger and closer. And wider.

With confusion. With fear.

He’s pulling away.

Man, it hurts.

“You have an eyelash on your cheek.” 

He feels his fingertips brush against the cool freckled skin, wiping nothing away, before he leans back. He watches Tadashi’s eyes slowly lose that terrified gaze, eventually relaxing. The hand in his stops gripping like the boy is about to die.

“Oh...” Yamaguchi sighs out, and Tsukki thinks he’s sighed for the both of them. As if they are both experiencing that feeling of ‘Oh, this is not what I expected.’ Oh, indeed.

“Jeez, your hand is cold!” Yamaguchi is going on about something, talking quickly, probably to ease the awkwardness, but Tsukki doesn’t really listen to him, mind racing and crawling all at once. Why would he try to do that. What was he even expecting to happen there. A kiss and a hug and a marriage proposal? Man. It hurts.

Through the haze of embarrassment and anger and rejection, he feels smaller, softer hands rub his own for a while, before fingers grasp around them in a firm hold. “I’ll keep this one warm ‘til you can head back home, okay?”

Okay, Tsukishima thinks. Okay.

“Okay.”

He holds Yamaguchi’s hand tight in his own, palms pressing so sweetly and nice, and stares down at the snow coating the ground before them as they begin walking again. Muffled music fills the chilled air.

When he gets to the other’s house, those fingers slip from his hand and go around his back in a quick hug, a quick “thanks”, a quick “see you tomorrow, Tsukki!”, before Tadashi turns and hurries inside. 

Tsukki walks home alone, with his music turned off, and stares down at the footprints they both made while walking to Yamaguchi’s house; holding hands in silence, shoulders touching, staring up at the snow and walking far too close together.


	2. Chapter 2

“Is around 5 okay? I should be done with practice by then.”

“Hm... Yeah, that should be fine. Don’t rush or anything, dear. His father will be home a little after 7, and I will be off by 6:30. Tadashi won’t be alone for too long, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. The slight laugh.

“I’m not worried about that. I was just wondering if it’s okay for me to drop by while you guys are gone.”

“Oh, Kei. You should know we trust you by now. In fact, his father and I really appreciate you coming by to help him catch up. Missing four days of school can really hurt your grades...”

“He’s smart. I think he can catch up easily.”

“And I know he misses his club activities, too...”

“.....”

“Anyway, thanks a bunch, Kei! I’ll see you tomorrow, hun.”

“It’s no problem. See you then.”

Yamaguchi’s mother was the same as always, sweet as honey and overbearingly protective. Of course she loved her only son more than life itself, but Tsukki could tell from the desperate texts sent his way all week that Yamaguchi was dying to have someone puncture the protective bubble that was placed around him ever since he had his allergic reaction.

Apparently it was some kind of nut he had eaten while at a restaurant with his parents, and, coupled with the cold weather and flu season going on, needless to say, his parents were basically keeping him hostage in his own room until he stopped coughing and sniffling.

Tsukki didn’t really care whether Yamaguchi was still sick or not, from the allergic reaction or the flu. He was already coming down with a sore throat himself, to be honest. Really the main reason he was going over was to stop his friend from sending texts all day; during class, during practice, on the walk home, all about how bored he was, how he missed volleyball and what Tsukki ate for lunch that day and if Daichi yelled at anyone during practice and was it over something stupid or funny.

Pretty much every detail of his life over the past four days had to be logged to Yamaguchi. Well, Yamaguchi asked for it to be logged, anyway. It was up to Tsukki’s mood whether he actually responded or not, which, recently, had become him mostly ignoring them. 

It was annoying. And distracting. And maybe a little worrying. But more annoying than anything. They were together so much, Tsukki rarely got any texts from his best friend. They had no need for texts when they were standing right beside each other for 80% of the day. To get all of these random, meaningless texts from the other boy lately made the rare occasion of getting a text from him a little less special than it would normally be otherwise.

Tsukki lays back on his bed to stare at the ceiling after ending the call with Yamaguchi’s mother.

It has been a long time, huh. Four days. Had they really not gone that long without seeing each other all school year? They’ve been together so much that four days feels like an eternity?

He flips the weight of his phone over in his hand before bringing it above his face and sliding his passcode in. A text from Yamaguchi blinks into existence almost immediately.

From Yamaguchi:  
‘Heard you’re coming over tomorrow. Save me!’

His eyes are captured by those last two words, and he hates it. They’re just two simple words. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean that Yamaguchi is dying to see him, and it doesn’t mean that Yamaguchi is depending on him to cheer him up or something, either. That’s ridiculous. 

He rolls over onto his stomach as his eyes scan the message at least three more times.

To Yamaguchi:  
‘Yeah. Just coming to drop off notes and stuff.’

He turns his phone off as soon as his message goes through, flipping it over so the screen is hidden against his bed sheets. It’s easier to ignore that way. Phone - and Yamaguchi - out of mind, he gets up, works for a while, browses the internet, and gets ready for bed all before he even turns the device back over again.

After turning off the lights, he gets into bed with it, laying on his side and staring at its dark screen, until it turns back on at the press of a thumb and lights up his entire room with a dull glow. Taps the touch screen, slides his passcode in.

From Yamaguchi:  
‘Can’t wait! Thank you, Tsukki.’

He shifts under the covers to roll over and face his nightstand, setting his phone down and slipping his glasses off. It’s 11:00 pm. Three hours since Yamaguchi sent that last text. Far too late to respond to it. He’s probably asleep by now, anyway.

Tsukki lets out an exasperated sigh as he reaches out.

To Yamaguchi:  
‘Just don’t be asleep at 5. See you soon.’

*

It really has gotten horrible outside.

The roads are icy and slick, and the sidewalks are crusted with frozen snow. On top of the grass, a few inches of pure snow pack down the earth, lining sidewalks and pathways. On busy streets, the edges by the road are brown and dirty, splashed by muddy tires and poisoned by passing car exhausts. In some places, near neighborhoods, footprints and missing scoops in the snow mark kids and teens making something fun out of what the weather has given them.

Tsukki is absolutely in love with it all. Winter has always been his favorite season, though he couldn’t really tell why. There’s just something so mystical about a clear winter sky, or a white, leafless tree, or a single footprint in a patch of untouched snow. Winter nights, when the moon isn’t hidden by those gray clouds in the light glowing sky and is able to paint the ground with silver. Winter mornings, with the sun warming his skin and the breeze cooling it right back down again as his breath puffs in the air near his lips.

It’s hard not to think about what happened just only two weeks ago. Yamaguchi holding his hand to keep it warm in the cold after Tsukki...

No, he stops himself. He would really prefer not to think about it at all. He finds it hard not to, however, looking down at all the tracks on the ground made from the countless number of people walking this same way.

That night it had just been the two of them. They were the only two walking on the fresh snow, stepping on flakes as soon as they reached the cement. It’s been snowing so much that those original prints should be long gone by now, trampled and stepped on and covered up.

Tsukki thinks that even if he tried his hardest, he could never pick them out of the flattened trail by now. He also thinks this is a good thing, though, because it keeps him from seeing that night over again and thinking about it too much.

It doesn’t really matter now.

He’s learned to shrug it off, just as Yamaguchi so easily shrugged it off. Like it didn’t really matter.

Thoughts still distract him so horribly during the walk that by the time he gets to Yamaguchi’s house, he realizes he forgot to bring his headphones with him. How annoying.

He knocks on the door with a gloved hand, twice, and waits, shuffling snow around on the doorstep with his boots in the meantime. A part of his mind is still buzzing from practice.

Yamaguchi comes to answer the door soon enough. He opens it just a crack to peek out, his eyes darting up quickly to look into Tsukki’s, before a small smile forms on his lips. As the door opens further, Tsukki can see he’s wearing a large blue t-shirt and baggy gray pajama pants. Tsukki suspects he’s been in them all day.

His cheeks are rosy, his eyes are bleary, and his voice sounds deeper and nasally when he welcomes his guest inside. One look and it’s easy to see that he’s still sick.

“-so glad you came over, because I tried to tell them that it wasn’t-”

“Yamaguchi,” he says softly, interrupting whatever he was rambling about. He wasn’t really listening, he’ll admit.

Yamaguchi stops and manages to look intrigued, stepping back and giving Tsukki room to take his wet boots off on the mat by the door. “Hm?”

Tsukki bats his hands away as the other tries to help him hang up his coat. “You told me you weren’t sick anymore.” Turning around, he looks down straight into his eyes.

“Oh. Well. I mean. I’m not. Not really, anyway. I feel fine,” Yamaguchi tries to reason through his nasally voice. Tsukki doesn’t buy any of it, but he nods anyway, just as Yamaguchi sneezes and looks away.

Shaking his head, Tsukki waits for the other to lead him to his room, silent and patient, observing all the evidence of illness littered around. Tissues piled in the trash can by his bed, a thick blanket over his sheets, cups half full of water on the bedside table, and a volleyball against the closet door. He was tossing it in the air in his spare time, wasn’t he, Tsukki thinks. If it wasn’t so cold out, maybe they could go outside and do something with it.

“Ugh,” Yamaguchi groans, immediately floating over to the bed and flopping face-down onto it. Tsukishima remains standing awkwardly by the doorway, watching him. “I hate not being able to do anything. It sucks, Tsukki.”

Let’s go outside real quick before your parents come home and toss the ball around. He doesn’t say it. It teeters on the tip of his tongue and eats him up inside.

“I bet. ...Have you eaten anything recently?”

Those brown eyes look up to him again as Yamaguchi turns over and gathers a nearby pillow in his arms. “Um. Kind of.”

“Let’s,” he hesitates, but he has a strong feeling the desire is irreversible by now. Might as well just say it. “Let’s go get something to eat. Outside.”

The following silence is expected, but it doesn’t make him feel any less foolish. He thought he was over this kind of shit. All of these impulsive, rash, emotion-driven decisions. He’s well aware of where they got him last time.

“Oh,” is all Yamaguchi says, blinking. Tsukki doesn’t blame him.

He looks away, fiddling with trinkets on the desk by Yamaguchi’s door to avoid looking in his eyes. It’s silly, but he feels embarrassment wash over him like asking to go out and eat was no better than trying to lean in and kiss him. It’s that same horrible, rejected pain, a pain so dull it might as well be a paper cut somewhere on his insides. Impossible to find and insignificantly small, but just so painful.

A small colored gem from a pile that Yamaguchi has collected on his desk slips from his fingers and falls to the floor. It bounces twice on the hardwood before settling near his left foot.

“Well, my parents will be home soon...” Yamaguchi says quietly.

“Can’t you let them know? You should eat something.”

“My mom’s making dinner tonight. You can stay and eat with us if you want.”

“Just text them real quick. We won’t be out for too long.”

Another brief silence.

“...I still don’t think it’s a good idea, Tsukki.”

“Really?”

“...”

“I’m taking you out to eat. It’s not that big of a deal. Come with me.”

The gem is a bright purple, with blue tints when the overhead light hits it in a certain way. It looks glossy to the touch, small and smooth. He’s been staring at it, studying it the entire time, unable to bend down and pick it up yet unable to look away. His fists are balled at his sides.

“Tsukki. Are you feeling okay?” Yamaguchi’s voice is coated with concern, smothered with it. 

He grits his teeth and finally bends down to pick up that damn gem. It’s smoother in his hand than he thought it would be, soft and slick. It takes its place back with the others. “I’m fine. I just thought you were hungry. That’s all.”

He wants to leave when Yamaguchi says nothing more. He wants to walk out the door without taking another look at his bleary, sick face, gather his shoes and his coat, and walk home on his own. He wants to be back out in the snow, where the wind is so cold he can’t even feel his skin. He doesn’t want to feel anything.

“You’re lying.” Yamaguchi’s voice has taken on a determined vigor, the one that recently struck Tsukki as being so cool, yet still annoys the hell out of him. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re all worked up over nothing, and it’s worrying me.” So damn annoying.

Tsukishima puts his hands in his pockets and turns fully away from the other now, presenting his back to him. The desire to just drop the notes on his desk and bolt is growing more and more appealing by the second. “I’m fine. I thought you wanted to get out of the house. You said you were bored. You keep texting me about it every 5 seconds. Sorry for wanting to help.”

‘This isn’t about wanting to help, you liar. This is about that stupid feeling you told yourself you’d get over, but you never did, because you’re too weak to.’

When Yamaguchi speaks, Tsukki doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s been hurt, and it makes him wince. “Well... I just- I didn’t think it would be a good idea to go walking around outside right now. I’m sorry. We can go somewhere some other time! It’s Saturday, right? Let’s go tomorrow!”

He sounds so excited. It sounds so fake. Forced. Tsukishima lets his eyes close. “I brought notes for you to look over. I didn’t really take good ones for history, though. I was kind of zoning out.”

He shrugs the backpack off while Yamaguchi steeps in silence, pulling out a yellow folder and setting it gently on his neat desk. His movements are stiff and unnatural, like he can’t get his body to move right.

“Tsukki, wait. Are you still gonna stay for dinner?”

Yamaguchi’s voice is so hurt. It’s so hurt. He can’t look at him now, he knows. It would be over. It’d be offering his soul up on a silver platter, releasing his free will into the hands of the other. He’d be lost, all that anger and pain and embarrassment felt for nothing, because Yamaguchi would cradle his mind like it’s something precious, pulling him in and taking everything from him.

“It’s late. I’m tired,” he forces out. It sounds lame, even to his ears.

“It’s Saturday. Just stay the night.” It’s not a question.

Tsukishima turns, finally, turns his body and looks over his shoulder at the freckled boy and sees him, sitting up on his bed with his legs crossed, hair messy, pajama pants bunched up at his calves, eyes sleepy and mouth frowning. His hands are braced on his legs, and he’s leaning forward, towards Tsukki.

Tsukki sighs and sets his backpack down by the door.

*

It’s been a long time since they’ve had a sleepover like this. The last time they did it, they were both smaller, both a little more naive and innocent. Back when they could both sleep in just their boxers, and Tsukki could trust his body not to take the scenario and run with it. He hates the fact that that’s no longer a possibility for them now.

Even the little, meaningless things, like having borrowed a pair of pajama pants from the shorter boy that barely pass his ankles, feel weird to him. Hell, it doesn’t turn him on or anything like that, but it just feels nice to wear them. Nice in a way that he knows he shouldn’t feel. Nice in a way that affects his heart, that brushes against that paper cut on it.

They chill after dinner, snack and play video games and watch TV for as long as Tsukishima can stand it, which is less than five minutes. Yamaguchi laughs and applauds him for sitting through mindless, brain-dissolving shows for more than 60 seconds, breaking his record, and Tsukki just scowls and advises Yamaguchi to stop watching TV as well, before his brain turns to mush.

He brings Yamaguchi his flu medicine - urged by his mother - and sits with him as he takes it. 

He stands by Yamaguchi’s side when he throws the curtains open to watch the night time snowfall predicted on the weather channel earlier that evening. When the freckled boy pushes up his window to stick his hand out, letting the cold winter air flow into his room and ruffle his hair, Tsukki indulges him, just this once, and sticks his own arm out as well. No snowflakes ever make it anywhere near their hands, pulled and pushed by the changing breeze, but the wind chills their skin instantly, like they’re actually standing out under the streetlamps in the snow, and Yamaguchi’s eyes light up like stars at the feeling.

Though Tsukki is shaking and his teeth begin to chatter, he stands by that open window until Yamaguchi is ready to close it. He’s rewarded with a thick blanket afterwards, Yamaguchi personally wrapping it around his shoulders and making sure he’s warm, even though he is the one who’s sick and almost died from allergies a few days earlier. It makes Tsukki feel foolish for getting so upset with him.

When they’re laying in bed, side by side, with the lights off, both too awake to sleep, Yamaguchi starts to talk to him, whispering into the darkness, and it makes his heart swell. He thanks him for coming over today to see him, apologizes for all the nagging texts, and tells him that if anything is bothering him, anything at all, he will always have Yamaguchi to listen to him, because they will always be best friends and nothing can change that.

One of his hands reaches up to seek Yamaguchi’s hair after his speech, and he doesn’t care how forward the gesture might be anymore. The other melts into his touch, in fact, stilling and breathing quietly as Tsukki runs his fingers through his hair once. Only once.

“What’s been bothering you so much, Tsukki?” the other asks him now, voice as light as a winter breeze. They’re laying on their sides, facing each other.

“Nothing,” is the instinctive response he gives, but he feels Yamaguchi’s head shift to look up at him and knows that won’t be enough. “I’ve just been worrying about the future, I guess. Like you have.” Not a lie. Not the truth, either.

Yamaguchi rolls over onto his back. “Oh... Yeah, it’s kind of horrible, isn’t it?” In the dull light filtering through the curtains, he can see a faint smile on the other’s lips. It’s a cynical smile, a bitter one, and it surprises him.

“What’s horrible?”

The smile grows a bit. “Thinking about the future. Just the idea of the future in general, really. It kind of makes me want to cry.”

Tsukki furrows his eyebrows at that terribly pained tone of voice and rolls onto his back as well to avoid looking at the other’s face. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. I don’t want to see what the future holds for me. I just want to keep living in the present forever.”

He pauses and frowns. “That’s not possible.”

“I know,” Yamaguchi breathes out. “I know.”

The conversation fades until the only thing they can hear is the breeze outside the window. Tsukki’s skin is still chilled from standing by it and sticking his arm out.

“We’ll always be friends in the future. No matter what future it is,” he says into the silence, before he has a chance to change his mind about speaking up. It hurts to say “friends”, but he knows it’s true, and it’s what Yamaguchi needs to hear right now.

Somewhere, deep down, under the fresh pain and heartache, he knows things will be okay for him, for the both of them, if he just lets them be. He’s vaguely aware that the only thing standing in the way of his happiness is himself, but it’s so buried and blurred in the tired pit of his mind that he can’t share it with Yamaguchi, even if he desperately needs it as well. So they lay in the silence and feel slightly miserable for themselves, until Yamaguchi sniffles and opens his mouth.

“Let’s go outside real quick, Tsukki. Like you wanted to earlier.”

It’s a stupid idea. It’s 1:00 at night, and it’s cold. Tsukki doesn’t want to go outside at all right now. But he does.

He sneaks through the dark house to the door with his best friend and shrugs on his boots, coat, and gloves, reaching out to help Yamaguchi with his scarf before he opens the door.

It’s so quiet outside, like the world has died around them. The wind has stopped, and everything is still, silent, and calm. Nothing moves. Nothing breathes, but what is beside him: a shorter, freckled boy all bundled up with a stuffy nose and a troubled mind.

Yamaguchi leads him out into the middle of the front yard, and though the street is right there, though they are surrounded by houses, it all feels so private to him. It feels like they’re not outside at all, but trapped in a bubble, like a snow globe.

He needs to tell him now, Tsukishima realizes. Now. He wants to. There is no better time, no better moment than the one he has right now. 

Yamaguchi is facing the street, head tilted towards the sky, a light frown on his lips.

He’s going to tell him. He has to. ‘I love you,’ Tsukki rehearses in his head. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.’

“I love-”

A car drives by on the ice-slicked road, slow and cautious, shining its headlights into their faces. Yamaguchi squints and turns away, taking a few steps back towards the house, boots crunching on the thick snow.

“Hm?” he asks, after the car has passed. “What were you saying, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima stares into his eyes for 4 seconds - he counts them - before opening his mouth again. “I love winter. It’s my favorite season.”

The smile that spreads onto Yamaguchi’s face almost makes him want to cry. It’s beautiful. “Me too! It’s my favorite, too.”

They stay out for a few minutes longer, making tracks in the snow and bunching up snowballs, but never throwing them, until flakes start to fall from the sky and Yamaguchi grabs his hand to drag him inside. He took his gloves off at some point, to feel the cool of the snow between his fingers, and his hands are like ice.

Somewhere between the door and the bedroom, Yamaguchi wraps his arms around him in a tight hug that lasts for a while. Just stands and holds him in the space between the kitchen and the living room, swaying slightly and silent. Tsukki holds him back like his life depends on it, tucking in his head under his chin and keeping a firm arm around his back. Yamaguchi sneezes when they’re like this, and Tsukki feels the moisture on his collarbone, but neither move. An apology is mumbled and gets silence in response.

Tsukki fully understands the other’s concern now. He could live in the present, stay like this, for the rest of his life. He could die like this and be completely content. He supposes that’s just what Yamaguchi feels about everything in his life right now. Everything is perfect, except the fact that, at some point, he has to move on. He has to leave home. He has to go to college or get a job and leave his high school life behind. Just as Tsukki has to move on, release the other from his arms and go home in the morning and go to school the morning after that.

When they part, it’s because Yamaguchi pulled back, but he takes Tsukki’s cold hand again and leads him to his room. He holds both of his hands when they get back in bed together, briefly scolding him that if he loves winter so much, he should at least know how to protect himself properly in it.

“Just because you love something doesn’t mean you know how to handle it. It can still hurt you, in the end. It can still take something from you. But, in a way, that kind of makes it all worth it,” Tsukishima says, clinging to Yamaguchi’s warm hands.

His voice is too serious, he knows, but it’s too late to take it back now. 

Yamaguchi chuckles, and it’s awkward and misplaced, but Tsukki just frowns, closes his eyes, and clings until Yamaguchi’s hands are slack around his, and even then, he doesn’t let go.


End file.
